


A Clear, Blue Sky

by newsiees



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Emotional Hurt, M/M, Mentions of Emotional Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9921914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsiees/pseuds/newsiees
Summary: Race has braved painful storms. Spot is not one of them.





	

“Spot?”

“Mmm?”

“What do you want from me?”

Spot propped up slowly, eyebrow raised as he turned his body to face Race’s. They were laying in bed on a Tuesday night, trying to force sleep upon themselves so that they might be well-rested for work. 

“Huh?”

“Like...what do you want from me?” Race fidgeted, curling closer into himself and gathering the strength to look his boyfriend in the eye. 

“Nothing? I don’t know, what does that even mean?” Spot really wished Race would look at him. 

“Um...I guess...why am I here?”

Spot made a face. He was sure that Race didn’t know what he was saying. 

“In your own apartment?”

Race laughed and looked up at Spot, eyes shining with adoration and tears. 

“No, stupid. With you.”

Spot tensed for a second, quickly relaxing to maintain an inviting presence for Race. 

“I’m irresistable? You love me? I don’t know, Race, I feel like that’s a question for you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

“Yes, I am.” Of course he was. Spot knew Race better than Race did. Probably. 

“Thanks, Spot,” Race murmured, incredibly unconvincing as he pressed a scatter-eyed kiss to Spot’s shoulder. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. No way. That’s not it. What the hell is this all about?” 

“I don’t know,” Race whined, trying to scrunch his shoulders further above his head. “I’m just really confused.”

“Here we are, okay. Continue,” Spot said with a authorial nod. He would take care of Race. 

“It’s just that you’re so...awesome. And you take care of yourself. And you don’t ask anything of me. And you seem to really, actually want me to be happy. It’s confusing.” 

Spot’s chest expanded from a full heart. A loved heart. 

“Well, it sounds to me like I’m perfect. Why is that confusing?” 

Race scooted closer to Spot, a curled ball now against his chest. 

“I don’t know, Spot, I don’t know.” Tears stormed upon Spot’s shirt, pressing to his skin, asking.

“Yes, you do.” 

“It’s all so new. Is this what a real relationship is? No responsibility?”

“Responsibility? You’re not responsible for me, Race.” Now Spot was confused. And worried. Where did all of this come from? 

“Before you...before you, it didn’t feel that way.” 

“Okay, Race, it’s okay. C’mere.” He settled off of his elbow and wrapped his body around Race’s shaking form, protecting from the past and its shadows.

“Have you ever listened to _Dear John_ by Taylor Swift?”

“Seriously, Race? C’mon,” Spot snorted.

“No, I’m serious. Have you?”

“Yes, I have. You love her.” Spot felt Race smile against him and snuggle closer.

“You ever listen to the lyrics?”

“I mean, I guess so. This is ridiculous, I thought we were getting to the bottom of your discomfort.” 

“That’s it!” Race suddenly sat up, bursting through Spot’s arms and fidgeting until he was secure on his knees. “Those lyrics...that’s it.”

“Race, I really don’t remember. Just tell me.” 

“I...I just...I can’t.” 

“Shh, it’s okay. Take your time.”

One shuttered breath, containing encouragement that this was okay. He was safe.

“It was based on guilt. I was...He convinced me that I had to do things. Not even on purpose, I think. Well, I guess maybe. I really did love him too and I think he loved me too. But...it wasn’t right. I wasn’t me. I was just his boyfriend. Everywhere. Always. I was responsible for him. He asked me sometimes if he was too much but you just...you just can’t say yes when you know that is going to destroy someone...I was...I just thought I had to...Everyone deserves to feel okay but me too…”

“Oh, Race…” Spot looked into broken glass, opening his arms slightly. This time Race had a voice. 

They stayed embraced in silence for a long time, old tears finally released. Eventually, they relaxed and allowed Spot to lay him down - Race on his stomach with his face pushed into Spot’s chest and Spot raised up, head in hand, rubbing circles on his boyfriend’s back.

“When did all of this happen?”

“We met right before I turned fourteen”

Spot almost froze, remaining calm for Race’s sake. 

“You have _got_ to be kidding me. For how long???”

“I dunno…” a sniffle filled the pause. “Two years?”

“Jesus…” Spot shook his head. Man, this kid was strong. “Does this have anything to do with that time I accidentally called you ‘love’ and you flinched?” 

Race, to Spot’s surprise, smiled.

“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t used to wanting to hear it. It shocked me that I liked it. You’re different.”

Spot smiled and dropped off his elbow, cuddling closer to Race and kissing his shoulder with a sleepy sigh.

“Thanks, Race. I’m here for you.”

Race lifted his eyes to meet Spot’s and took a deep breath. 

“I know. I love you. I mean it.”  
He meant it. This was real. Love is not constant pain. Love is this.  
Love is Spot.


End file.
